


The Old-Fashioned Way

by moonbands



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, But also, Cashton, Fluff, M/M, Science Fiction, Soulmate AU, aka very loosely based off of Matched by Ally Condie, matched - Freeform, utopian society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbands/pseuds/moonbands
Summary: Do you want to meet your match? YES or NOCalum took a deep breath and reached up, his fingers expecting to hit the yes, but only running through the air. The air twisted around to form a name, and Calum recognized it.“Ashton!”Aka the one where Calum knows his match, or does he?





	The Old-Fashioned Way

“Your name is Ashton?” Calum asks, his heart rate picking up beneath his chest.

_**Five months earlier:** _

Calum clung to his chip in the palm of his hand, the metal digging into his skin, which he knew would make an indent. Today was the day he would learn who about his soulmate. He had just gotten his chip from the 21s ceremony, and his stomach was churning over and over at the aspect that this was what he had waited for his entire life. His match, his soulmate, was waiting for him to plug in his chip and know who he was. Calum felt like he was going to die.

It wasn’t long before he had reached his house, the one he had lived in his whole life. His parents were out, most likely talking to the other parents from the 21s ceremony. He knew that most of the 21s were to read their chips alone, but he wished he had someone to read it with him.

“Calum?” he heard his sister’s voice as he opened the front door. His blood drained from his face. He had forgotten about Mali-koa.

“Mali!” he yelled, running to her room, where he found her waiting in her doorway. “Will you read my chip with me?” He asked, his hand reaching up to touch her arm.

“You know I can’t, Cal.” Mali was a 25, she had already read her chip, and she even knew her soulmate personally, but they were still getting into their relationship. Calum knew no one else was allowed to read his chip, but he was still hoping that someone would. Mali pulled her brother’s arm, wrapping him in a hug. “But I’ll be right outside your door, if you want.”

Calum looked down at his sister, nodding at her. “Yes, please.”

Mali followed him to his room, but stopped right outside of the threshold. Calum turned back around to look at her, and she smiled encouragingly at him. He gave a small smile back.

Calum shut the door behind him as he walked inside his room, leaving Mali-koa right outside. He walked over to his desk, where he found the chip reader he had received on his doorstep the day he had turned 21. He opened his palm, where the chip was resting in his hand, and indeed there was an indent.

He took out the chip from his palm and held it between his fingertips, taking in a deep breath. He pushed it into the chip reader and closed his eyes.

“ _Calum Thomas Hood_ ,” said an automated female voice. He peeked out of one eye, and then he opened the other. His whole room was dark, the only light coming from the digitized air between him and the chip reader. In front of him, a series of letter floated in the air.

_Do you want to meet your match? YES or NO_

Calum took a deep breath and reached up, his fingers expecting to hit the yes, but only running through the air. The air twisted around to form a name, and Calum recognized it.

“Ashton!” Calum exclaimed. He knew an Ashton. He was a 19, ruggedly handsome with sweet curly hair, and deemed the barrio’s resident artist. Calum suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t know what he was so scared of.

Calum took out the chip without reading the rest, placing it carefully in his ceramic mug holding his pencils on his desk, and ran to his bedroom door. He threw it open, a big smile on his face as he faced his sister.

“His name is Ashton.” Calum leaned against his doorframe. “I know him.”

“Really?” Mali asked, her face lighting up as she hugged her brother. “You know it took me four years to find my match, I’m so glad you know yours!” And then it dawned on him.

“He’s a 19,” he told Mali, his face falling. “He won’t know I’m his match.”

Mali’s eyes squinted, looking at Calum’s face as she thought of what to say. “You know,” she started, her hands moving to Calum’s arms. “You can tell him he’s your match. There’s no rule against it.” And suddenly, the smile was back on his face.

 

Calum was leaning against an outside wall of the barrio’s school system, waiting for Ashton to come out of his university class. He looks up as a bunch of students leave the building, and his eyes catch on a boy around his age looking at him, the glasses on his nose threatening to slide off. A small smile forms on his face as he realizes Calum is looking at him. Calum sends a smile back, and looks away to look for his boyfriend.

Calum whistles as his boyfriend rounds the corner, his tall and slender figure slinking to tower over Calum as he leans against the wall. Calum lifts his chin to press a kiss to the boy’s plump lips, a smile growing on his face.  
“Hello, beautiful,” Ashton remarks, his hand resting against the wall by Calum’s head. Calum grins uncontrollably.

“Hi,” he greets almost shyly. His hands reach forward to rest on Ashton’s waist, pulling him in a little closer. “How was class?” Calum asks, tracing his fingers on the outside of Ashton’s shirt.

“It was okay,” Ashton answers, his bright white smile making his jawline protrude nicely. “But I’m happier now that you’re here.” Calum felt his heart pound in his chest as he smiled back at his match.

 

“Oh my god, and then he was like ‘Please, Ashton, I can’t live without you.’” Ashton laughs hysterically as his friends surround him with their own laughter. Calum sulks, sitting as far away from his boyfriend as he can in the tiny booth of the little diner the group is in.

“Yeah, well, what you did wasn’t nice,” Calum retorts, sending a glare over to Ashton.

“C’mon, babe,” Ashton laughs, putting his arm around Calum. Calum unnoticeably tenses under his touch, but forces himself to relax. “It was just a joke. I would never leave you. We’re soulmates after all, right?”

“Right,” Calum grits out. Except, every day that passes feels like he gets further and further away from believing the truth. He wonders if the chip was wrong, if the Seers were wrong.

As Ashton continues joking with his friends, he drops his arm from Calum’s shoulders, leaning in to slap his friends’ hands as they reach for his food. Calum wishes he were anywhere but here.

Calum excuses himself to the restroom when it gets too much, when he gets tired of his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s friends making jokes at his expense. He gets up from his seat and walks towards the red-painted doors of the bathroom, not noticing the wet floor sign and the mop haphazardly resting against the wall.

Calum takes one hasty step onto the wet floor, and his shoes squeak as he tries to keep from slipping, but of course, as if the Seers had it out for him all along, he falls to the floor in front of his boyfriend and his friends. He reaches out with his wrists to stop his fall, hitting his palms on the hard tiled floor. As he rests on the wet floor, he recoils and holds his left wrist to his chest, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

Ashton and his friends burst out in laughter once they catch up on what had happened, and Calum truly wishes he was anywhere but here.

“Are you okay?” a quiet voice asks him, and Calum looks up to find a familiar face looking back at him as the owner squats over, holding his hand out. The boy with curly brown hair and glasses hanging off his nose takes Calum’s hand as Calum reaches for the boy’s, and helps him stand up.

“Is your wrist okay?” the boy asks, and Calum looks down at his wrist, lost in the shock between falling and his boyfriend laughing at him when a total stranger is taking care of him. His wrist is still cradled in his chest, and Calum grimaces when he tries to move it, but it only feels sore, not broken.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks,” Calum says, looking up at the boy again, watching as the boy’s cute rectangle glasses fall further down his nose, his honey brown curls falling further into his face as he looks down at Calum’s wrist.

“Calum,” Ashton calls from behind him, and the two boys by the restroom look back at him. “The boys and I want to get home to get some drinks,” Ashton explains, although his tone of voice is commanding Calum to hurry up in the restroom. Calum nods and turns back around, walking towards the red doors again.

When Calum comes back out of the restroom, his wrist hurting only slightly less as he had taken time to shake it out as he washed his hands, he is stopped by the boy from earlier. “Hey,” the boy says, and Calum gives him a little smile. Then, he looks down at the styrofoam cup in the boy’s hand that he’s pushing forwards.

“Is this for me?” Calum asks, taking the cup into his hand, staring into the whipped cream deliciously sitting behind the clear plastic lid.

The boy’s light skin turns pink as he nods, a shy smile forming on his pink lips. “I thought, since, you know, you fell because of my mopping, I could at least give you something on the house.” It’s then that Calum realizes the boy is wearing a red shirt that matches the bathroom doors and a black apron wrapped around his waist. “It’s, um, banana, but I didn’t know what you would want, and I guess, uh, I should have asked before getting you anything but-”

“Thank you,” Calum interrupts, smiling brightly at the boy. “I like banana, it’s okay.” The boy smiles back at him, his cheeks glowing a pretty pink underneath the flourescent lights of the tiny diner.

“Hey, babe,” Calum hears as an arm curls around his waist, a hand settling on his hip. He looks up to see Ashton, his dark skin glowing softly. “Ready to go?”

Calum nods, looking back at the boy as the two move towards the front doors to join their friends in Ashton’s car. He takes a sip of the banana milkshake, and his heart sinks to his stomach as he climbs into the passenger seat, Ashton’s hand reaching over to rest on his knee.

 

Calum looks up at his boyfriend’s face, his fingers carding through Ashton’s dark curls. Ashton’s dark skin glows a pretty warm color as the only light in the room comes from their yellow lamp from their bedside table. Ashton’s nose brushes Calum’s softly as he presses a delicate kiss to Calum’s lips. “How’d I get so lucky?” Ashton asks quietly, his lips bumping into Calum’s as he talks.

Calum knows what he’s talking about. They have discussed it before, and Calum feels guilty for ever thinking that Ashton wouldn’t be his soulmate. Ashton thinks the world of Calum, and he feels lucky for learning that Calum is his match before his own 21 ceremony.

“You’re so lucky,” Calum jokes, smiling before pressing another soft kiss to Ashton’s lips.

Ashton’s hand runs up Calum’s arm and cups his cheek, his thumb smoothing over Calum’s brown skin. “I actually had a crush on you,” Ashton states quietly. “When I was younger. I thought you were really cute.”

This is the first time Calum has heard this, and his heart beats loudly in his chest. “I thought you were so handsome,” he admits to Ashton, who smiles, every bit as handsome as Calum thinks.

The two lay in silence, their fingers running over exposed skin, for a few moments. Calum lowers his head to press his cheek against Ashton’s collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Ashton whispers, his hand reaching back to massage the back of Calum’s neck.

“Why do you make fun of me to your friends?” Calum asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He breathes out onto Ashton’s dark brown skin.

Ashton huffs. “We talked about this,” he reminds Calum, and Calum knows this, but he still doesn’t understand. “It’s just something me and my friends do. It’s not supposed to make you upset.”

“But it does,” Calum argues, pulling away to look at Ashton in the face, whose hands release Calum’s neck to press against his bare chest. “Why can’t you just stop?”

Ashton rolls his eyes, but Calum sees the hurt he’s trying to hide. “Why can’t you just stop being so sensitive? You’re always trying to pick a fight with me.”

Calum’s eyebrows furrow, his face getting heated as he pulls away from Ashton. He sits up in the bed, looking down at the thin boy beside him. “I do not, I just think you should listen to when I talk about my feelings.” Calum curls his fists into the bedsheets.

Ashton turns onto his side, his hand propping his head up as his elbow rests on the mattress. “Baby, I am listening, but I think you’re being ridiculous. It’s just making jokes with my friends.”

 _Ridiculous_. “About me,” Calum sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t care if you make jokes about anything else, I just don’t like being the brunt of jokes.”

“Come on, my friends make jokes about me all the time, and I make jokes about them. It’s nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary,” Ashton argues.

“Except _I’m_ new, and I don’t like how you treat me with your friends, like I’m something to laugh at.” Calum has never looked at Ashton like this, completely furious, but he is now.

“Yeah, you’re new, and you’ll get used to it,” Ashton scoffs, moving to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Calum throws off his bedsheets, sliding up a pair of sweatpants he picks up off the floor. “Where are you going?” Ashton asks as Calum turns his back to him, throwing on a sweatshirt over his bare chest.

“Out,” Calum answers, grabbing his phone and wallet from the bedside table.

“Come on babe, this is ridiculous. Come back to bed.”

_Ridiculous._

Calum shuts the door roughly behind him as he leaves.

 

Calum makes it to the bar fine, but he’s not fine as he downs his second alcoholic drink, wishing the alcohol would take effect a little faster than it is. He knows Ashton could find him easily if he actually looked for him, the bar a constant place for hanging out with Ashton’s friend. Calum just wants to be drunk when Ashton finds him.

The bartender walks over to him, a frosty red drink in her hand that she puts down in front of Calum. “This is from the man over there,” she smiles at him and leaves before Calum can even say a word. Calum looks over to where she pointed, and there sits the boy with curly honey hair and cute rectangle glasses, although he seems to have ditched them for today. Calum’s chest constricts, and he gives a shy smile to the stranger. He wraps his lips around the tiny red straw poking out of the icy drink and takes a sip, knowing this is what is going to make him drunk tonight.

Before he knows it, he’s picking up his drink and walking over to the boy, suddenly very believing in liquid courage. “Hey,” he greets the boy as he sits across from him at the white table the boy is sat at.

“Hi,” the boy answers, giving a pleased smile that Calum had decided to join him.

“Thank you for the drink,” Calum says, his face flushing despite the low lighting of the bar. He’s sure the other boy won’t notice, though. He takes a drink of his cold beverage.

“Of course,” the boy laughs, holding up a beer of his own.

“You’ll have to let me buy the next one,” Calum urges, a smile playing onto his face. “Wouldn’t want to owe you any more frozen drinks.”

“It’s no problem,” the boy argues, his finger running over the rim of his beer. “I thought I might cheer you up.”

Calum realizes he must have looked disasterly downing those shots earlier, and he kind of feels like a disaster anyways. “Thanks,” he says again, though he doesn’t need to. “Just having-” he hesitates before finishing, “boyfriend troubles.”

The boy’s face across from him grows into something unreadable, and he nods along to Calum’s words. “Need an ear to complain to?”

And Calum shouldn’t. He doesn’t know this guy, and he has plenty of other friends to complain to about his boyfriend. He came to the bar to work it out alone, but here is a friendly face, a man that doesn’t necessarily care that he has a boyfriend, just someone genuinely interested in him. God, Calum shouldn’t talk to this man about his boyfriend.

“He’s just-” Ah, and there it is, “He keeps making jokes about me, and I know it sounds dumb, but it makes me feel bad. His friends don’t seem to have any respect for me at all, especially when he makes fun of me, and I feel like sometimes he believes some of the things he says about me.” Calum wonders why he couldn’t just say this to Ashton before, why his normally cool head was infuriated with his soulmate.

“Sounds tough, mate,” the boy says, and Calum flushes that he had even considered talking to this man about his personal problems. But then he continues. “I had a girl like that once. She used to talk about me to her friends behind my back all the time. I had no idea what she was saying until my best friend told me his girlfriend had been there talking to my ex about our relationship. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Just girls getting relationship advice, yeah? No, she was telling her friends that I-” and the stranger stops, and a faint rose color appears on his supple cheeks. “She was telling her friends that I kiss weirdly.”

Calum can’t help himself, a low rumble in his chest turns into a giggle. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes as the boy’s face grows flushed. “That’s just endearing,” he says before realizing that doesn’t make this situation better. “Well, do you?”

And the boy just looks at Calum, and Calum recognizes the red shirt underneath the boy’s denim jacket. “Do I what?” He asks, still a little flustered.

“Do you kiss weirdly?”

The boy looks down at the table as he shrugs, pulling his lip in between his teeth. “I don’t know.”

Calum nods his head, though the boy isn’t looking at him, and takes a sip of his fruity drink. “Why is the world so shitty?” he asks thoughtful, thinking of the attractive man sat across from him.

“I don’t know,” the boy repeats. He looks up, his curls falling over his forehead as if he were peering over his glasses at Calum. “You want to talk about shitty?”

Calum finds himself nodding.

“I know who my match is, but I have to wait until their 21s ceremony to tell them.” The boy smiles sadly at Calum, whose heart crumbles at the boy’s expression.

“There’s no rule against telling your match they’re yours,” Calum advises, but the man shakes his head.

“They won’t want me,” he sighs, leaning back into his seat. His denim jacket scrunches up at his shoulders.

“Who wouldn’t want you?” Calum means it more as a statement than a question. The boy in front of him hardly knows him, yet he’s been nothing but sweet and genuine. Any person would be lucky to have him.

The boy opens his mouth as if to answer Calum’s question, his eyes sad, but shuts it instead, taking a sip from his forgotten beer.

“If it helps,” Calum starts, swirling the tiny red straw in his little red drink, “I think the matching system sucks anyways.” He was talking about him and his boyfriend, but the boy across from him grows a tiny smile on his face, as if he knew something that Calum didn’t.

 

Calum left the bar even less enthusiastic about getting home. Having someone to rant about his boyfriend to didn’t hardly solve his relationship problems, and he felt like he should have taken the stranger’s offer to drive him home. However, he didn’t necessarily want to go home yet, and something about the stranger made it feel more intimate taking the offer than it should be when Calum has a boyfriend.

As Calum walked towards his neighborhood, the street lamps turn on when he walks underneath them, surrounding him in a soft blue light. He passes the dining part of the barrio, and Calum fights with himself, debating whether to bother the all-night diners with his presence. His craving for a banana milkshake takes the win, and his eyesight brightens as he’s met with the bustling dining area. The Seers know that enforcing a curfew is pointless since some people are naturally night owls. Calum isn’t really a night owl, but some nights, like tonight, when his need for a milkshake overtakes him, he is happy that the Seers understand.

The diner Calum walks into is the same one he had been in when he had fell on the wet floor, and he has cravings for banana milkshakes every once in a while. Tonight, he walks up to the front counter, ordering the milkshake. He sits on the spinning stools to the side of the cashier as he waits, looking at the red shirt that reminds him of the sweet boy he had been talking to.

When Calum reached home, his banana milkshake in hand and nearly gone, he noticed Ashton’s car missing from his house’s driveway. He sighs heavily, pressing open the front door as quietly as he can, not wanting to wake his family. When he turns around, he finds his sister looking back at him.

She doesn’t say anything, just looks at his tired eyes, and pulls him into a hug. Calum sips at his drink behind her back. She takes his hand and leads him to her room and pushes him down onto the bed. She crawls underneath the covers beside him and reaches over to put his styrofoam cup on her bedside table. Mali-koa pulls his head into her chest, her fingers carding through his hair behind his ear.

“It’s okay, just sleep,” she says softly, almost too loud for the serene setting. Calum can’t argue with that, feeling more comfortable in her arms than he has in weeks.

 

“You’re so annoying!” Ashton yells, running his hands through his tight black curls against his head. “We have talked about this eighty times before, just get over it!”

“No! You never want to listen to me about this! You say I need to get used to it, but you never want me to feel comfortable with you.” Calum’s face is heated, and his hands are curled into tight fists by his sides.

“Of course I want you to feel comfortable, you’re my ‘ _soulmate_.’” Calum watches as Ashton very nearly rolls his eyes.

And the way he says “soulmate” makes the bottom of Calum’s stomach fall.

“Do you not think we’re soulmates?” Calum asks softly, his shoulders tensing as his arms press against his sides. Ashton looks at him, his face softening. But he doesn’t answer. “Do you not love me?” Calum asks, now clenching his hands to stop from shaking instead of in anger.

“Of course I do,” Ashton says quickly. “It’s just-” and he stops, and that’s it. He doesn’t go on. He doesn’t need to.

Calum turns, not wanting to look at Ashton as tears form in his eyes. He walks towards the front door down the hallway before a hand catches him.

“Wait, Calum,” Ashton pleads, and Calum waits, but he doesn’t turn around. “We should talk.”

Calum takes in a deep breath before pulling his arm out of Ashton’s grasp. “We’ve talked enough.” And it’s meant to sound angry, but it only sounds breathless and hurt.

With that, Calum walks out the door.

Calum ends up at the same place he did last time; the diner with the killer banana milkshakes. It’s a lot busier this time, as it is only a little past noon. Calum almost walks back out, but he remembers Ashton is most likely still back at his house, and he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. Instead, he walks up to the cashier and orders a banana milkshake.

Calum slides into a red spinning stool, his legs curved to settle his feet on the bar halfway down the leg of the chair. The waitress puts his milkshake in front of him, this time in a long glass with a red cherry on top of the whipped cream. He smiles a thanks and takes a long sip from his milkshake, nursing it as if it were a fruity drink from a bar.

Calum almost flushes when he sees the boy from weeks ago, clearly forgetting he works here. As the boy walks towards him, Calum turns his face down to sip from his straw. He wishes away the stinging in his eyes from his fight with Ashton.

“Hey,” the familiar voice greets him, and Calum looks up to see the boy smiling down at him from behind the counter. His smile falters, however, when his eyes meet Calum’s, and Calum curses that his eyes are probably red.

“Hi,” he replies, raising his fingers from being wrapped around the frosty glass in a sort of wave. He hunches over a little more under the still-stranger’s intense gaze.

But the boy doesn’t say anything, just gives Calum another smile and moves past him, dragging a bucket and mop with him. Calum watches as he takes his place by restrooms again, pulling a wet floor sign out from behind the restroom door.

Calum gets increasingly grumpier the longer he sits on the stool after he finishes his milkshake. His phone flat against the clean white counter keeps flashing with messages from his friends, and even some from his parents, but he just wishes it would stop. He decides to turn it off. He slumps up against the counter, poking at the cherry at the bottom of his glass, trying to get it to stick onto the end of his straw. He puts it into his mouth when the boy with the curly honey brown hair slides up in front of him, his arms leaning on the counter.

“Hey there,” the boy says, watching Calum’s mouth as he chews the cherry before swallowing.

“Hey again,” Calum answers, unable to help the small smile forming on his mouth. He looks behind him, and it seems he is one of three people in the diner. He’s been here a while.

“Penny for your thoughts,” the boy pries, despite the incredibly outdated phrase considering pennies hadn’t been used since the Seers had decided to charge purchases straight to careers. Calum knows what this boy means, though.

Calum swirls his straw between his fingertips, the only part of his milkshake left being the whipped cream at the bottom of his glass. He sighs without thinking, then looks up at the boy, who seems interested as he peers at Calum through his rectangle glasses. “Um,” Calum stumbles over his words, unsure why he feels compelled to tell this stranger his life’s problems. “My boyfriend, um, said some stuff.” He waves his hand, unwanting to dig too deep.

The boy, however, doesn’t move from his spot, only seeming to lean in closer as if to encourage Calum to continue. Calum’s breath shutters as he starts again, “He doesn’t think we’re soulmates.” And there’s a shocked look on the boy’s face that quickly changes to unreadable, and Calum isn’t sure if he even saw the expression in the first place.

“Do you think you are?” the boy asks, his curls moving as he fixes his glasses on his nose.

Calum pauses, looking at the sweet boy in front of him in this tiny diner ten minutes away from his match. He feels his chest constricting, as if all the air inside of him is centered just in the middle of his chest. He breathes out a long sigh, his hands trembling as they hold against his empty glass. “To be truthful, I haven’t for a while.”

The boy nods, feeling Calum’s solemness. He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, his face showing that he is thinking. After a minute, he looks carefully at Calum’s face before opening his mouth. “Cake or pie?”

It’s safe to say Calum is a little lost. “What?”

“Do you want cake or pie?” the boy rephrases, his hand lifting to point at the counter on the other side of the cashier, the clear glass reflecting the light. Calum gazes inside to the shelves, where he sees an assortment of delicious-looking desserts.

“I shouldn’t,” Calum refuses, but Ashton shakes his head.

“It’s on the house.”

Calum looks at the boy as sweet as honey, and a shy smile forms on his face. “Cake?” he suggests. “Chocolate.”

“Good choice,” the boy replies, a handsome smile of his own gracing his cheeks. He leaves Calum to go to the kitchen, taking Calum’s empty glass with him.

Calum watches as the boy comes back with two plates, then leaning crouching down and sliding open the frosted glass door to pull out two slices of chocolate cake, one on each plate. He walks back over to Calum, setting one of the plates and a fork down in front of him and the other slice in front of himself. The boy scoops up a piece of his slice of cake into his own fork, and places it delicately in his mouth. He looks up at Calum and gives a close-lipped smile, continuing to chew his dessert.

Calum smiles widely before digging into his own cake. “Thank you,” he says in between bites. “Somehow, this is exactly what I need.”

“Nothing a chocolate cake and a banana milkshake can’t fix,” the boy jokes.

Calum gazes up at the boy, watching as he takes another bite of his cake. He looks down at his own cake before up at the boy. “Have you met your match yet?” Calum asks, vaguely remembering talking to this boy about his match. “I mean, have they turned 21 yet?”

The boy looks over Calum with an expression Calum can’t read, but it seems to be curiosity if Calum had to guess. Curiosity about what, Calum wouldn’t know. “I guess not,” the boy answers, sounding a little dejected.

“But you said you know them?” Calum inquires. The boy nods slightly. “And you haven’t told them?”

“No,” the boy answers. He seems to stare at his chocolate cake with a certain sadness, and Calum thinks maybe he overstepped his boundaries.

He scoops up a bite of cake, and his mouth waters when it touches his tongue. “This is really good cake,” he compliments around the dessert in is mouth.

The boy looks up with a small smile, one that says he finds Calum endearing, and Calum’s heart flutters just a tiny bit. That shouldn’t happen. He has a soulmate. He met his match.

“Thank you,” the boy says. “I made it myself.” Calum’s appraisal must be apparent on his face because the boy laughs. “I’m a baker,” he continues.

“Do you bake here?” Calum asks, remembering that the boy cleans inside this diner. Maybe he does both.

“Sort of,” the boy answers. “I do lots of jobs here. I’m a busboy, a baker, a waiter, and a cashier if needed.”

Calum stares at the boy in awe. “Why do you do so many?”

The boy smiles and points to his nametag, “I’m the general manager.”

Calum looks down to the boy’s shirt, but the most surprising part isn’t the fact that the busboy is also the manager. Calum’s heart gets caught in his throat, and he finds it hard to breathe as he stares at the boy’s name.

The boy must take his shock for about something else because he says, “I’m just the store manager, I have a person I work for too.”

Calum looks up at the boy, his chest constricting as he feels like dying when his eyes meet the boy’s staring at him from across the white counter with their chocolate cake slices in between them.

_**Present Day:** _

“Your name is Ashton?” Calum asks, his heart rate picking up beneath his chest.

“Yeah,” the boy, _Ashton_ , replies. Calum feels like passing out.

“I-” Calum starts, pushing himself off his stool, stumbling onto his feet. “I have to go.” He looks up at _Ashton_ , meets his eyes again, and his chest tightens. “Sorry.”

So Calum leaves. Well, more like runs out the door.

He runs all the way home, where he finds Ashton’s car in his driveway. He throws open his front door, not stopping to slip off his shoes, his chest rising and falling as he pants as he runs to his room. There, he finds Ashton, the real Ashton--wait, his boyfriend Ashton--sitting on his bed.

“Calum,” Ashton starts, his dark hands reaching for Calum.

“Shh,” Calum shushes him, pushing past his hands to get to his desk. He pulls open the drawers, nearly ripping them out of the wooden desk, his fingers scrambling through the miscellaneous papers and desk supplies.

“Calum, we need to talk,” Ashton says as he watches Calum from behind.

“No, we don’t,” Calum argues, continuing rummaging through his desk, messing up the organized pens and papers and paper clips and staples. He pulls open another drawer, making a loud bang as it refuses to leave the desk. He fingers through it, his chest constricting tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Calum, what are you doing?” Ashton asks, placing a hand on Calum’s shoulder. Calum shoves it off, heavily breathing as he frantically looks at his desk for the tiny bit of metal, staring at the chip reader sitting in the middle of his desk.

Calum suddenly remembers, and he picks up the ceramic mug from where it’s sitting in the corner of his desk. He dumps all the pencils out, immediately holding the tiny metal square in between his fingertips like he had months ago.

“I can’t see that,” Ashton argues, moving to leave the room, but is too late as Calum presses the chip into the chip reader, and suddenly the room goes dark.

 _Ashton Fletcher Irwin_.

Calum sucks in a sharp breath, reading the words mere inches from his face.

“That’s not-” Ashton cuts himself off, his breath catching in his throat.

Calum turns to look at Ashton with sad eyes, his boyfriend looking like he’s about to fall apart. That’s not Ashton’s name.

 

It had been a week since Calum and Ashton had found out they weren’t soulmates. It stung harder than it should have. They both had said that they didn’t think they were soulmates, but finding out the truth put it into perspective for them. They could never go back to what they were, especially since Calum knew it wasn’t him.

Calum probably felt worse about it than Ashton. For five months, he had thought Ashton was his soulmate. He had led Ashton on, and the fact that Calum had been so careless in reading his match in the first place made him embarrassed.

Of course, he had told his family. Calum knows they think what he did was idiotic, but they’re obviously supportive of him in his time of hurt, Mali-koa especially. She has been the kind of sister Calum doesn’t deserve, taking care of Calum as his life spirals out of his control. He hasn’t slept well through the night, and when he does sleep, he doesn’t wake up for a long time. He can’t believe he was so stupid.

What really bothers Calum the most is this other Ashton that he’s supposed to be soulmates with. He doesn’t know him, and he might as well spend eighty years searching for him for his mistake. He hasn’t read the chip.

It’s over cereal one day that Calum brings it up to Mali-koa, who is sitting across from him at the dining room table. “Will you read the chip with me?” he asks softly, peering up at Mali, his beanie sliding further down his forehead.

“You know I can’t,” Mali answers, reaching across the white table to press her hand against Calum’s that’s holding his spoon in his cereal. “But I can be just outside, just like last time,” she reassures, smiling encouragingly.

Calum nods and takes a deep breath before standing up. Mali-koa looks upset that she’s leaving her cereal to sit in the milk, but she grabs it anyways as she stands up to join Calum outside his bedroom door. Calum looks at Mali through the entryway, then closes the door and turns to his desk.

Calum pulls out the white-painted wooden chair and sits down, staring at the chip sitting next to the chip reader. He picks it up in between his fingers, looking at it closely for the third time in his life. When he hears Mali’s clink of her metal spoon against the ceramic bowl, Calum releases his breath and presses in the chip to the chip reader.

 _"Ashton Fletcher Irwin_ " the digitalized air reads. Calum carefully looks over the letters individually, pulling his bottom lip underneath his teeth. He reaches up and swipes over the name, feeling nothing touching his fingertips. The name vanishes as if it’s smoke, and a picture takes its place.

Calum’s heart beats loudly against his chest, staring back at the honey brown-haired boy from the diner. He stares confusedly, remembering Ashton had said he already knew his match.

_“Have you met your match yet? I mean, have they turned 21 yet?” Calum asks._

_“I guess not,” Ashton answers._

_“But you said you know them?” Calum inquires. Ashton nods slightly. “And you haven’t told them?”_

_“No,” Ashton answers._

And Calum feels embarrassed again, although he knows Ashton doesn’t know Calum has made a mistake. Calum had talked to Ashton about his boyfriend, who Calum thought was his match, but Ashton knew was not.

Calum reaches up and swipes the picture away, his fingers still expecting to hit something but not. A list forms in front of his eyes.

_Born: July 7, 1994_

_Height: 6’0”_

_Education: Bachelor’s degree in Pastry and Baking_

_Occupation: General Manager in Food Services_

_Likes: Banana milkshakes, chocolate cake, music, baking_

Calum knows this setup is very much like a dating app, but he can’t find himself to care. His heart flutters a little bit as he reads the words in front of him, his cheeks heating at how horrible a mistake he has made.

 

It isn’t another few weeks that Calum finally goes to the small diner again, tail between his legs as he barely has enough courage to explain to Ashton what had happened. He walks into the diner, looking around the store for the curly brown hair he had came for.

“I can help the next customer,” a familiar voice says from directly in front of him, and he follows his line of sight to the cashier, the boy with the honey brown hair standing behind the cash register. The boy-- _Ashton_ , Calum reminds himself--grows a small, shy smile as he sees Calum at the front door.

“Hey,” Ashton greets him once Calum has forced his feet to move forwards.

“Hey, Ashton,” Calum says quietly, looking through the rectangle glasses on Ashton’s face at Ashton’s green eyes.

“Banana milkshake?” Ashton asks, his hand hovering over the screen of the cash register.

Calum nods and watches as Ashton looks down, pressing the screen. Calum reaches forward his ID, handing it to Ashton, which Ashton presses to the cash register, ensuring that the purchase will be billed to his parents. As Ashton hands Calum his ID back, Calum blurts out, “Do you know my name?”

Ashton looks up at Calum before looking back down at Calum’s ID, which clearly shows Calum’s name and picture identification. “Calum,” Ashton states.

Calum sighs in frustration. “Do you know me?” he tries again.

Ashton studies Calum’s face before nodding, still looking unsure of what Calum is asking. “Calum Thomas Hood? Born January twenty-fifth, 1996. Six-foot-one.”

Calum breathes carefully. “Something that isn’t on my ID?”

Ashton smiles softly before continuing, “Likes chocolate cake, music, reading, and writing.”

Calum feels like he can breathe again, like his whole world shifts into places as he stares at Ashton, tears forming in his eyes against his will. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Ashton looks behind Calum, and Calum suddenly remembers he’s not the only one in the diner. He steps aside, climbing onto one of the red spinning stools next to the pristine white counter as Ashton takes the order of the person next in line. When he’s finished, Ashton disappears into the kitchen before reappearing with Calum’s banana milkshake in a clear glass, two cherries on top this time.

“I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t want to know,” Ashton explains quietly, leaning his forearms against the counter.

Calum nods, an embarrassed grimace coming to his face when he realizes the position he put Ashton in. He takes a sip of his milkshake before speaking. “I made a mistake,” he begins quietly, not entirely wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. Ashton looks at him confused. “I read your first name on my chip and thought it was my boyf--ex boyfriend’s.”

Ashton’s face shifts from confused to sad before quickly changing to a small smile, his eyes crinkling as he looks incredibly endeared by Calum. Calum’s cheeks flush. Ashton opens his mouth to say something, but Calum interrupts him. “Please, don’t make fun of me. I almost didn’t come here,” he admits lowly, staring down at the whipped cream gleaming underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Hey,” Ashton says, reaching forward with his hand to touch Calum’s against his glass. “It’s alright. We all make mistakes.”

Calum’s heart beats in his chest as he moves his hand underneath Ashton’s, his fingertips grazing Ashton’s fingers. “Thank you,” Calum says, looking up at Ashton eyes through the rectangle glasses.

“Besides,” Ashton pretty much whispers, leaning forward as if telling Calum a secret, a smirk on his face. “I’d like to think we did this the old-fashioned way.”

 

Calum wakes up, his eyelids fluttering open as the bright light seeps into the room through the windows. He almost doesn’t recognize the bedroom, but then he sees the honey brown curls on the pillow next to him, and his heart goes all warm in his chest. He turns on his side, pressing light kisses to Ashton’s cheeks. Ashton’s own eyes open a moment later, sleepiness peering up at Calum.

“Good morning,” Calum whispers, pressing a delicate kiss to Ashton’s lips.

“Morning” Ashton mumbles, burying his head in Calum’s bare chest, his curls tickling Calum’s skin.

“How’d you sleep?” Calum asks, resting his chin on the top of Ashton’s head, his arm snaking around Ashton’s side to rest his hand on Ashton’s back. Ashton answers in a bunch of mumbles. “What was that?” Calum chuckles, rubbing his thumb against the skin on Ashton’s back.

Ashton pulls away, showing a small smile as he looks at Calum’s eyes. “Better now that I’m with you.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Calum laughs, pressing a kiss to Ashton’s nose. “You’re still cute though.” Ashton grins at Calum before giving him a sweet kiss.

The two lay in bed for a while, the sun increasingly lighting up the room as the curtains remain pulled to the sides of the window.

“Today’s my 22s,” Calum reminds Ashton, who has buried himself back into Calum’s chest. “Will you read my chip with me?”

Ashton giggles, warm air tickling the hair on Calum’s chest. “Make sure you read it fully this time. Can’t have you thinking you’re an engineer when you’re really a sanitation engineer.”

“Ashton!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment! I love reading what you like or what you dislike about my works. More comments mean I upload more things.
> 
> Plus, I would love to know of any writing prompts you’d want me to try out!
> 
> The ending kind of sucks, but I'm hoping you still like it!
> 
> Omg I needed to clarify that sanitation engineers are amazing! Their jobs are perfectly fine! Even more so, they should be celebrated. I was actually referencing Zack and Cody when Cody got test results back saying he was going to be a sanitation engineer.


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